Mark Johnston

Humanility

I thought a lot about my life yesterday.

I had time.  I was bent low over a pitiful excuse for a shovel scooping up and tossing snow, building misshapen banks of whiteness to act as perimeters on either side of the dark stretch of highway that is our driveway.

I thought about all the spiritual and intellectual complexities of my life, reduced to this grueling physical act: bend, scoop, toss… bend, scoop, toss…  If you’d have driven by, you could’ve mistaken me for a brilliant philosopher or an uneducated buffoon; a man of significant means or a pauper.  The motion of my arms and shovel, the curve of my back, gave no indication regarding my value on this earth.

That’s the way it is, you know – there is precious little separating us.  Tonight one man will sink into a leather armchair in a cavernous living room and fall asleep to lights twinkling down on him from a gargantuan tree; another will wearily spread a tattered blanket out over the grate on a sidewalk and hope it doesn’t rain or snow.  One mother will order caviar for a dinner party later this week; another reach for a loaf of bread at the local food pantry.

Is there really any significant difference in quality between the first man and the second; between the woman who has it all and the one who has nothing?

Hardly.  It’s at Christmas-time that hopefully those of us who believe – in a God longing for us, in a Christ coming to us, in a gospel saving us – recall that we are all his creation.  And that the trappings of our lives are no indication of the value of our lives.

So, as the wind invited tiny particles of ice to dance their way off their vast white plateau and swirl about my eyes and mouth, I bent… scooped… and tossed.  And I thought about this being human thing.  And being made in the image of God.  And how we are all made in the image of God.

I thought about humility; and what it is in its essence: realizing that I am not that different from the people around me.  Not from the ones who have it all together.  Not from the ones who have nothing together. No better or worse.  That everything any of us have is purely because God has been gracious to us.  That everything we do not have does not change the truth that we are his creation.

Driving by, you might have mistaken me for anyone at all.  But human is what I was; and am.  Human, and hopefully a little more humble.  A little more aware that we’re all just bending, scooping, and tossing our ways through life – and that God sees and loves us all.

Who will you drive by and make a judgment about today?  Do you think of yourself as better than other people?  Worse?  How is this affecting your relationship with God – and others?

Before his downfall a man's heart is proud, but humility comes before honor (Proverbs 18:12 – NIV).

Fully Engaged - Part 2384a

Okay, so I've blogged a LOT about being fully engaged lately.  Here's one more installment:

How much time do you spend working on what’s important to you versus working in it?

In other words, what percentage of your day or week or month is spent reviewing the plan for your life… and what percentage is spent living it?

Do you love to plan and organize but rarely pull things off?  Chances are you need to recalibrate the way you use your time – spend less of it dreaming and more time doing.  Do you have vague hopes of doing something great that never seem to materialize?  Chances are you need to recalibrate the way you use your time – spend less of it checking off tasks and more of it determining which tasks are the right ones for you to be checking off.

Someone once told me that we tend to overestimate what we can do in a day and underestimate what we can do in five years.  There’s a lot of truth to that.

My philosophy regarding how I use time is pretty simple.  I like to call it “chunks.”  It all goes back to this principle of being fully engaged: plan "chunks" of time to spend on projects or tasks; and then don’t allow anything to interrupt those chunks if at all possible.

There’s a downside of course.  I can get so zeroed in on what I’m doing that I don’t handle legitimate interruptions very well.  But I’d rather struggle with learning to handle legitimate interruptions properly than be constantly distracted by every interruption any day.

Here are some practical ways I utilize this principle of “chunks”:

· Every Monday, I spend 60 minutes planning my week.  Every hour of every day is given a purpose – the “chunks” are planned in advance.  Life is too short to spend (waste) doing things that aren't important.  (This doesn’t mean every hour is spent working; because work isn’t the only thing that’s important.  But every hour is spent doing something that matters.)

· I have “chunks” of scheduled time to check my email and voicemail.  I’m a huge hypocrite here – I have a long way to go.  But I’m working on it.  Whatever it is can wait until the time I’ve designated to look at it.  My response is going to have higher quality then anyway – and whatever I’m working on at the moment won’t be interrupted.  (I’m not the Messiah, so most of my emails and calls aren’t truly urgent.)

· I avoid multitasking (I’m a hypocrite here too… but getting there).  Many of us type “A” leaders pride ourselves on being excellent multi-taskers, but we’re probably kidding ourselves.  No one can do many things well at once for very long.  Strangely, I find that when I’m full of energy, I often try to do a bunch of things in one day… and at the end of the day, usually can’t remember anything I’ve done that really mattered.  I hate that feeling: and multi-tasking is the culprit.  So I no longer see energy as an exclusively good thing: it may be my downfall for that day if I just randomly apply it.

What do you need to do to start creating some “chunks” of time to work both on your life/ministry/career and in it?  What is distracting you regularly; in what areas are you deluding yourself into thinking that the key to effectiveness is to do as many things as you can at the same time? 

Make some changes this week to prioritize – even if you get “less” done in terms of quantity, it’ll probably end up being more in terms of quality... and the quantity will eventually come, sneaking up and surprising you as a reward for doing the right things with the "chunks" God gave you.

Fully Engaged - Part III

I’ve been blogging about being fully engaged the past week and a half: in every moment, season, and circumstance, finding out what’s worth doing and doing it with all our might.

In the week leading up to Thanksgiving, I was home on a Monday with my kids.  I’m usually at the office on Mondays.  My kids are usually at school.  At night, we see each other.  It’s a nice arrangement.

But on this particular Monday, Susan was at work, I was at home, and my children were there with me.  They needed my attention.  Conner is potty-training; Madeline is eight.  They were both out of their routine and correspondingly hyper. 

I wasn’t fully engaged.

I tried to care for them and “sneak” in some work – respond to emails, tweak projects, check on ministry plans…  I ended up totally frustrated.  By the time Susan came home to switch off with me and I headed to the office, I was useless.  Grouchy.  Scatter-brained.  Not on top of my game.

I didn’t spend the morning fully engaged with my kids; so I wasn’t able to spend the afternoon fully engaged with my work.  During the morning, I was thinking about work.  During the afternoon, I was thinking about the time I misused with my kids.

They missed out.  I missed out.  The church I lead missed out.  Everybody lost.

Tuesday, I got a clue.  Both kids were still home; I was still home (I’m usually at the office on Tuesdays as well); Susan was once again at work.  I decided to fully engage; to be happy to be with my kids; to allow my attention to be consumed by them and them alone.  I played with them.  I felt so energized I even cleaned the kitchen while caring for my kids (my wife fainted upon arriving home that afternoon; she’s doing fine now).  I fully engaged in that time with my children; that time at home.

And a funny thing happened.  When Susan switched off with me that afternoon, I headed to the office… and found myself ready to go.  Passionate.  Clear-minded. 

Fully engaged.

Much of the guilt and distraction and frustration in our lives arise from not properly managing or allocating our time.  We feel guilty we’re not more involved in our kids’ lives when we’re at work, and we worry about unfinished projects at work when we’re with our kids.  We feel guilty that we’re not leading as well as we should at our church when we’re away for a weekend; and guilty that we don’t get away for the weekend more when we’re leading at our church.

The solution is to fully engage.  Create chunks of time in your life.  Give those chunks of time a name and a purpose.  And when you’re living in those chunks of time, fully engage.

Fully Engaged - Part II

Tuesday I blogged about being fully engaged.  Whatever I’m doing right now is either worth doing or it isn’t.  If it isn’t, I should simply stop doing it – it’s a waste of my time.  If it is, I should do it with my might; fully engaged.

Let’s take this a step further: what about “disengaging?”  Everybody needs that, right?  Times when we let our hair down; chill out; forget about focus and just do whatever.

I don’t think so.  I don’t think we’re ever supposed to be anything less than fully engaged.

Let me explain.  I obviously don’t mean that we’re never supposed to rest.  But I think at times I’ve talked myself into believing I’ve done so well at being fully engaged, that I deserve to disengage.  That violates the principle of “whatever.”  (Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the grave, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom (Ecclesiastes 9:10 – NIV).)

Honest confession: sometimes in the past when I’ve approached my rest time as if I “deserve to disengage,” I end up spending it on something that isn’t truly restful at all.   Mindless entertainment; empty stuff that leaves me more stressed out or hollow than I was before.

This isn’t about workaholicism.  With rest, the same principle applies: fully engage.  When I’m resting, I’m resting.  I don’t feel guilty because I’m not getting “work” done (I am getting work done – the work of the soul).  I don’t feel guilty because another leader can’t reach me on the phone or by email.  I want to be better for you when I’m not resting, and that means I need to be unavailable to you when I am.  But I need to still be intentional about my rest.  This is the principle of the Sabbath: God didn’t give his people a day of rest and then say, “do whatever you want with it.”  He gave them feasts and festivals and worship ceremonies to engage in, to find rest for their souls.  I plan my rest around my values so I can fully engage in it.

I wonder if pastors who have affairs honestly get duped into believing they’ve held the line for so long that they “deserve” to disengage their purity.  I wonder if employees who embezzle money or steal staplers or call in sick when they’re actually headed skiing or hunting or shopping believe that their track record is enough to warrant a little disengagement from their integrity.

The fact is, I never “deserve” to disengage.  I deserve something far better.  To always be fully engaged.  Everything in my life has purpose – because I was created on purpose by a purposeful God.  Everything I do is for his glory: whether I’m working, playing, resting, reading, thinking, struggling, or stretching… I’m called to only do what is worth doing; and to be fully engaged in it.

What do you need to fully engage in today?  Meaningful work?  Meaningful rest?  Do it with your might.

Fully Engaged

I’ve been thinking the past week or so about what it means to be fully engaged.

This is a scriptural principle: Ecclesiastes 9:10 says, Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the grave, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom (NIV).

In other words, work hard at what you’ve been given to do while you can, ‘cause you only get one shot at this.  (Notice how Solomon couldn’t resist – “in the grave, where you are going.”  Thanks for the reminder, wise guy.)

I think this principle of full engagement is a deal-maker or -breaker for most of us.  Too often we spend our time at work thinking about how we need to be better connected to our family… our time with family worrying about a project at work… our time alone wishing we had more friends… our time with friends wishing they’d figure out what it means when we yawn nine times in a row.

And how does it play out?  When I’m with my family and worrying about some project or problem at the church I serve, my time with my family ends up being mediocre.  My wife misses out on my attention and passion.  My kids miss out on my instruction and love.  That’s not cool because I care about my wife and kids.  Deeply.

On the other hand, when I’m at work and I’m thinking about my wife and kids and how I need to spend more time with them, my work ends up being mediocre.  Which would be fine; except I’m a leader… and I care about my work.  Deeply.

What’s the solution?  Full engagement.

Whatever I’m doing right now is either worth doing or not worth doing.  If it’s not worth doing, I should simply stop doing it.  No matter the immediate cost, no matter the loss of reputation or satisfaction that may result, I should just stop doing it – it’s not worth it. 

If whatever I’m doing is worth doing, I should fully engage – and forget about anything and everything else.  Give it my best.  Do it with my might.  Do it with the constant awareness that soon I’m going to die and I won’t be able to do this thing worth doing anymore; so I’d better do it well now.

Do this date with my wife fully engaged – bequeathing to her the prime real estate of my brain during my time with her; offering my total attention and interest.   Do this time with my kids fully engaged – intentionally playing and praying and prancing around with them so they see Jesus in me and love and adore him and want to know more about the Leader and Lord their daddy follows.  Do this ministry work fully engaged – guilt-free, phone off, “Do not Disturb” sign on the door, offering this plan or program or problem my full focus so when it’s implemented or resolved, it will work well because God worked well through me to do it.

Whatever you’re doing right now is either worth doing or it’s not.  If it isn’t, stop doing it – it’s a waste of your time and God-given gifts.  If it is, do it with your might.  Fully engaged.

Elevated

I’m in a white Town and Country headed up the I-95 corridor through northern Virginia.  The Journey’s Directional Team is on its way home from a weekend in Charlotte, North Carolina. 

We spent Saturday night and Sunday morning at Elevation Church, touring their campuses, experiencing their worship services, and meeting with some of their staff.

As is common with trips like this, we’re all bubbling with ideas and dreams; overflowing with perspectives and possibilities.

Here are a handful of mine:

· I love Jesus and The Journey and what Jesus is doing at The Journey.  Let me be frank: I’ve walked away from experiences like this weekend’s in the past thinking about how far we have to go and feeling overwhelmed about getting there.  Not so much this weekend.  While we all noted areas we can improve in when it comes to reaching people who don’t know Jesus and helping those who do grow, the sense among us is that Jesus is doing something significant at The Journey right now… and the gaps are closing.  I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else with anyone else.  I’m humbled to lead and serve such a great church.

· If you’re a Journey-ite, there’s an amazing directional team guiding our church’s spiritual and practical strategies.  Susan, Andrew, Amanda, Mike and Sarah are all top-shelf leaders – and as your lead pastor, I’m gratified to be partnered with them in moving the ball down the field for Christ.  Teamwork makes the dream work (thanks John Maxwell).

· Our vision is right.  It’s from God.  I’m coming home more committed, passionate, and (I don’t know a better word for it) ruthless about the vision of The Journey.  It’s right.  It’s from God.  It’s going to lead us where God wants us to go.  Come on aboard.  We’re going the right direction.

My wife is singing along to Norah Jones and Mike is adlibbing fill-ins.  Sarah chimes in every once in a while with dainty lines.  Andrew and Amanda are trying to have a conversation I’m assuming is romantic in nature.  Gross.

We’re coming home.  To Delaware.  To you.  To The Journey.  Next weekend, we launch “Christmas Unwrapped.”  We’ll be gathering, connecting, and serving this holiday season with Jesus front and center.

I can’t wait.

The Final Word

Okay, so not really… but this will be my final blog about porn, at least for now.

Monday I wrote about owning up to our sin: calling it what it is and confessing it to God.  Tuesday I wrote about an equally important step: confessing it to someone else.  (You can read those blogs by clicking here http://yourjourney.typepad.com/mark_johnston/2009/11/porn.html or here http://yourjourney.typepad.com/mark_johnston/2009/11/tell-someone-else.html.  You can listen to the message they’re based on by clicking here http://sermon.net/yourjourney.)

So what’s the final word?  Stop investing.

The premise of this message about porn is that it is a really bad investment.  The world and its desires pass away, but the man who does the will of God lives forever (I John 2:17 – NIV).  If you’re investing time or money or both in porn, you’re investing in something that is in the process of deteriorating spiritually – like a gallon of milk a week beyond its expiration date; a loaf of bread with the first few hints of bluish mold appearing on its crust; a corpse beginning to rot in the sun as it awaits burial. 

If you do the will of God, your life becomes a mint green shoot pushing up through the soil, full of power and potential; a newborn baby, healthy and wriggling in its father’s arms.

So stop investing in the lustful passions of this fading world.  Attack the source.  Where do you get porn?  Do you view it online late at night?  Buy it from a convenience store you frequent?  Stumble upon it on HBO or Showtime or pay-per-view on the TV in the den?  Blow up those bridges.  Cut those roads off.  Don’t think about it, don’t analyze it, don’t try to figure out a way around it: if even one time you’ve accessed porn from one of these sources, you’re responsible to remove access to them. 

Install a filter that notifies someone else if you screw up.  Go to www.xxxchurch.com for simple, free accountability software.  Switch gas stations.  Cancel HBO.  Block the pay-per-view channels.  Take the TV from the den out into the back yard, glob war paint on your chest, and dance around it whooping “Hallelujah” like a maniac while you smash it to death with a sledgehammer.  It’s a great way to strike up a redemptive conversation with a neighbor.

Sound harsh?  Over the top?  If what you were doing now was going to work, it would already be working.  It’s time to take it to the next level.

You do have another option of course: “If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away” (Matthew 5:29 – NIV). 

Um, I prefer to keep both eyeballs - so where do I get that accountability software again?  Glad you asked – www.xxxchurch.com.

Stop investing in something that’s dying.  You’ve been given new life in Christ.

Tell Someone Else

Yesterday, I blogged about porn, and the first step to freedom: man (or woman) up.  Call it what it is.  Step away from the excuses, the blame and the shame, and own the sin.  (You can listen to a brutally honest message about this by clicking here: http://sermon.net/yourjourney.)

I live in a new development, and the builder left most of us who bought houses on the front end with a pretty crappy yard.  The soil is as hard as rock; the grass seed must have been on clearance; and the results aren’t pretty.  In response, some of my neighbors have been spreading mushroom soil all over their lawns.  It smells.  It’s dark, dank, and nasty.  But underneath it, in the safety provided by that brown-black muck, all kinds of stuff starts to grow.

Grass.  Weeds.

Then my neighbors have to work hard to get rid of the weeds and tend the grass.

Mushroom soil reminds me of secrecy.  There are beautiful things associated with secrecy; amazing connections between it and spirituality.  When we pray in secret, God blesses us openly.  When we give in secret, God rewards us openly.

But there are terrifying things associated with secrecy as well; lurid connections between it and spiritual scarcity.  When we view porn, typically we’re alone.  We cover our sin with a thick blanket of secrecy; and underneath that dank, stinky comforter of compromise, stuff grows that we didn’t foresee.  Weeds of lust gain strength in secrecy until they eventually become part of the lawn of our lives; nearly impossible to remove without damaging the rest of the yard.

If you want to be free from porn, you have to tell someone else.

Jesus said, “There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known” (Luke 12:2 – NIV).  It’s not a matter of whether this sin will be discovered; it’s simply a matter of when. 

When someone stumbles onto the internet trail you thought you’d erased?  When you’re caught in an adult bookstore?  When pictures or videos aren’t enough anymore so you come on to someone at work and expose who you’ve become?  Or when you pick up the phone or meet someone for coffee and confess that you’re struggling with this – before it has a chance to ruin your life completely?

You’re going to have to own up to your sin before God; and before someone else.  Too many of us stop at step one – we admit it to God, and then pour six dump trucks worth of mushroom soil back on top of our sin so it can continue to grow. 

James writes, Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective (5:16 – NIV).

Good advice if we want to be free.

P.S. Check out www.xxxchurch.com for more accountability tips and software.

Porn

Have you ever looked at porn online?  Do you know someone who does?  Do you watch the soft-core stuff on HBO?  Do you have a secret?

Yesterday, we tackled it at The Journey – pulling no punches, wagging no fingers, leaving no rock unturned.  Pornucopia: the symbol of spiritual scarcity.  (You can listen right now by clicking here: http://sermon.net/yourjourney... no one will know.)

It was scary (especially for me - my wife was sitting on the front row).  We aimed a glaring spotlight at this thing that likes to lurk in the darkness of our society and our souls.  And what we saw was that we have to choose a side.

There is no neutral territory, no spiritual Switzerland, when it comes to porn.  It's simply a really bad investment

What's the first step in choosing the side of purity over porn?  Man up (or woman up, as the case may be).

Take responsibility.  Stop making excuses, rationalizing your lust.  Maybe you’ve been engaging in it for so long, off and on, here and there, that you’ve started convincing yourself it’s no big deal if you leer at naked people you don't know on a screen or a page; that it’s just your “thorn in the flesh.”  Time to stop that lie in its tracks; it’s leading you off a cliff.

Maybe you’ve even tried to pass the blame, like I have at times: “God, why are you letting this happen to me?  Why don’t you fix me?” 

James wrote, When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each one is tempted when, by his own evil desire, he is dragged away and enticed (1:13,14 – NIV).

God isn’t doing this to you.  You’re doing this to you.  You must own it.  Step away from the emotion, the excuses, and the shame and just call this thing what it is.

Maybe you’ve been misreading a lack of response from God; justifying your sin because God hasn’t crushed you for it.  Revisit that with this lens: …the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son.” …If you are not disciplined… then you are illegitimate children and not true sons (Hebrews 12:6,8 – NIV).

If God isn’t responding anymore… that’s not necessarily a good thing. 

Own your sin.  Call it what it is.  Stop, wherever you are right now, and confess it to God. 

And then receive the full forgiveness and freedom he offers.  God isn’t interested in making you “pay a price” for this.  The purpose of his discipline is to change us, not penalize us – the penalty was already suffered and paid by Jesus Christ the righteous one.  The moment we fully and freely and honestly confess, God fully and freely forgives.

Stop whining.  Stop blaming.  Stop hiding.  Confess it to God and turn away from it.

Don't let porn win.

Move On

Are there any other agonizers out there?  (Don’t spell-check “agonizer” – it’s not a word.  See, I’m already agonizing over using it.  Pitiful.)

Is there anyone else who wrestles with the paralysis of analysis, who worries about the decisions and impressions you’re making… or not making?

I can be an agonizer at times.   I worry that I wasted this hour; need to follow up on that person; should’ve said more at that moment; less at this one.

I can quickly become crippled by this incessant rehashing of my life, trying to figure out where I went wrong and how to make it right.

There’s a time and place for such careful introspection, of course.  Too many people in our culture – too many believers even – are stunted and stifled by the opposite problem.  They rarely reflect on their decisions; infrequently pausing to consider what is motivating, distracting, or tempting them.  Consequently, they’re destined to keep repeating the same stupid mistakes, making the same stupid choices, wasting the same chunks of never to be regained time – over and over and over again.

But for those of us who suffer from agonizitis (I’m on a roll now), here’s the thing we have to admit: it’s pretty stinking selfish.  When we transcend healthy reflection and enter the realm of self-obsession, we leave God’s grace behind.  A constant “tinkering with our souls” (thank you A.W. Tozer) is simply another sign of our own human nature running sickeningly amok.

Paul said, "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do" (Romans 7:15).  But he didn't stop there.  He recognized how screwed up his human nature was and then moved on in Christ, declaring - "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1).

Maybe it’s time to lay aside questions like “why did I do that?” and “what’s wrong with me?” long enough to get in a good, hard gaze at a holy God; a God who is unimpressed by our agonizing, yet infinitely passionate about our joyful surrender to his grace. 

Maybe it’s time to pray for someone else.  Maybe it’s time to simply trust God with “why did I do that?” and ask instead, “What do you want me to do now?”  Stop agonizing.  Bring some closure to your reflection.  Leave the needs of your own soul in the capable hands of God and focus on the needs of another.  Move on.